So, Are We Friends Now?
by Mac-alicious
Summary: It's Camille's unspoken job to advise Kirsten. And she kind of likes it, oddly enough. / / or, how Camille slowly grows on the strangest girl she's ever met and vice versa. / / Camille POV. Camille x Kirsten friendship. Oneshot.


**A/N:** I requested a new category for the first time just so I could have a place to stick fics about this show. I seem to be very inspired by this show and its cast of characters (which might stem from the fact that there's only a tiny bit of canon to spoil my fun). And as I've been collecting story idea notes, the new episodes have actually ended up touching on things that I've picked up on for fic. I don't know if that means I'm on the same track with the writers, or if I'm just up for disappointment when they take a detour. Either way, I'm starting to get into these characters and their personalities. Hopefully, there's some people on here that like the show too. I happened to write my first one shot on Camille and her take on her relationship with Kirsten. (If you squint there's a little Kirsten x Cameron undertones). Enjoy! R&R! Thanks! ~Mac

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Stitchers.

 **So, Are We Friends Now?**

For the last year, Camille and Kirsten have had a strange, undefinable relationship. That's not just because Camille was undercover spying on Kirsten for the Stitchers program. It's because Kirsten is, well, for lack of a better work, _Kirsten_. The girl is, herself, undefinable, so relating to her in commonly acceptable terms is next to impossible. So, they aren't friends, exactly, or rivals, per se. They're roommates, but it's a label that only works on a factual level. As in, they occupy the same living space. They're not roommates like other people are roommates. Like, those two girls are roommates and sort of friends out of convenience, so they get lunch and go shopping and give each other life advice when their real friends aren't available. No, they're not that kind of roommates.

This is a definite it's not me, it's you situation. Camille is pleased to learn that it's not some inherent flaw in herself, or her acting ability, making her unable to forge a connection with Kirsten. No, it is because Kirsten is so strange, _so strange_. Because Camille takes her task seriously, she is able to determine that Kirsten is like this, detached and aloof, with _literally_ everyone.

For the Stitchers Program, that's her appeal. On an interpersonal level, it's frustrating.

Camille is a friendly person, mostly. A majority of the time she is friendly enough. And she likes Kirsten, she does. It's just hard to build rapport with a girl like Kirsten. Camille has tried, on several occasions, and always seems to fall short—like she's the one missing something. She gets on better than some people when it comes to encounters with Kirsten, and that's because she's had a year's worth of up close and personal observation to grow familiar with Kirsten's eccentricities. The girl's personality can be seen as off putting, her lack of expression callous, her noninflected tone blunt, and her overall interactions harsh, sometimes mildly offensive, unfeeling and overly intrusive. Yet if anyone takes the time to see past that, they'll see that this is just a symptom of her ignorance, her ignorance a symptom of her disorder. Kirsten simply doesn't know how to act like the average person. Like Camille said, she never knows what to report, because all of Kirsten's behavior is abnormal.

In the office, in the tank, Kirsten can flourish because all the things that make her an outcast in the real world, make her damn good at Stitching. Outside of all that, she's just hopeless. Given enough time, maybe she would be able to get things done her way—all that misplaced blatant honesty and straight to the point sans finesse would eventually come in handy somewhere, somehow, someplace that Camille cannot think up currently, but give her time, she'll find it. Until then, it's more likely to get Kirsten and everyone with her arrested or killed. And it appears that Kirsten's warped priorities don't give her any reason to fear those possibilities.

Camille has had irrational moments, but in none of them was "possible death" on her to do list. She does not know how to treat bombs and guns like they're every day occurrences, even if they might be in this line of work. Also, she's not a fan of handcuffs outside of occasional, personal use.

So, the fact that Kirsten is expected to do more, _authorized_ , field work, is a little concerning. Not because she isn't capable, though her behavior makes that questionable sometimes. Kirsten is smart and can handle herself, there's no denying that. And she's not on her own either. Cameron is there to look after her and Detective Fisher is there with his badge and gun to protect all of them. For the most part, she'll be safe from major injury, incarceration, or death.

But, good grief, if she doesn't stick out like a sore thumb while doing it.

Field work requires the ability to assimilate into any given situation or scenario. To do good reconnaissance work, one needs to be invisible. It's about camouflage. So far, that meant looking and acting like a normal person, something Kirsten hasn't proven she's capable of. She wouldn't be able to blend in if she was a Nutri Ninja.

Clearly, Kirsten can't be trusted to dress herself. She can't be trusted for a great many things associated with _normal_ behavior. So, it's Camille's unspoken job to advise her. And she kind of likes it, oddly enough.

Dressing Kirsten for the rave is just the start. Though there is probably nothing more satisfying than the look of curious horror on Kirsten's face when Camille took scissors to those pants.

Every time a case requires a makeover for Kirsten, Camille is at the ready with her makeup case, a closet full of better alternatives to anything Kirsten might think is appropriate attire and a smirk on her face. For every time Kirsten has made her feel stupid just by being her usual self, Camille exploits this realm of her expertise. She takes her time, because for once in the last year, she has a one up on Kirsten. She drags it out, because it's not often that anyone has Kirsten at a disadvantage. Seriously, even with a gun to her head, Kirsten never feels vulnerable. Somehow this, playing dress up, is more stressful than near death experiences. Sadly enough, it's probably the only way that Camille can get one over on Kirsten. She loves it anyway.

It's kind of like having a little sister. A very annoying, very surly little sister with no fashion sense to speak of when it comes to anything beyond looking like a student on her way to class or the library.

Kirsten never makes it easy on her, but what would be the fun in that?

"I'm not sure about this," Kirsten says yet again as she stands in front of the full length mirror while Camille circles her to make the final touches.

"The invitation clearly says semi-formal," Camille responds, fixing the hem of the dress where it had ridden up.

"It's just the _particular_ dress you've chosen," Kirsten continues.

Camille straightens up and meets Kirsten's eyes in the reflection of the mirror. "Would you prefer a full length ball gown? No? I'm sure you'd prefer the peewee politician get up you tried to wear to the rave."

"I couldn't possibly," Kirsten says and for a second Camille thinks she's learning. "You destroyed the pants."

Camille rolls her eyes. It figures. " _This_ is the dress. Trust me."

"Can I—" Kirsten squirms, trying to adjust fabric where there is none.

" _Trust me,_ " Camille repeats. "This is the right look. You want to leave some up to the imagination, but not too much. You want to look—"

"—approachable."

"—sexy," Camille grins as Kirsten blinks at her. Kirsten is all about the blinking. Ninety-nine percent of her interactions involve well timed blinks. Camille ignores the flutter of eyelashes that are perfectly noticeable because of the spectacular job she has done on Kirsten's makeup. "You want to be alluring. Desirable. But not trampy. Let the dress do the work for you and you'll get the job done. I promise."

"You can't guarantee that," Kirsten says.

"Maybe not," Camille says, "but I'm going to anyway."

Although Kirsten complains about the dress, the shoes, the makeup and the elaborately twisted up do at least five more times before Cameron arrives to pick her up, Camille wins. It shouldn't make her giddy, but it does.

Camille tries to wait up, for Kirsten's return, to hear about the results of her handiwork, but she ends up dozing off on the couch with half a glass of wine left on the coffee table. She stirs at the sound of the key in the door but doesn't rouse until Kirsten is leaning over her sprawled out form.

Now, Camille is the one blinking up at Kirsten, trying to clear the fog of sleep to look at her clearly. Blonde hair has come spilling out of the pins, the dress in wrinkled slightly and rides a little high on her thighs, and the heels are dangling from her hands.

"It worked," Kirsten says.

"I knew it would," Camille yawns as she rolls over and Kirsten starts to head to her room.

This is the part Camille loves: the I Told You So. The satisfaction of good advice taken. So maybe this time it isn't about a field work. Maybe this time it is a different kind of mission. Or maybe, her roommate isn't equipped to call it what it really is. Camille is pleased either way. It means she's on tap for help whether it's a consultation paid for by the Stitchers program or guidance about a date given from the goodness of her heart.

"So, wait," Camille pops up before Kirsten can disappear down the hall. "Does this mean we're friends now?"

Kirsten says nothing, just blinks away like the practically robotic humanoid that she is. But she doesn't deny it, which is a first. Camille smiles smugly. She'll get Kirsten to say the words someday, she knows it. She'll just keep chipping away and chipping awy.

And until then: Mission Accomplished.


End file.
